


when I met you in the summer

by silverhedges



Series: the zodiac signs as: drama [7]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Study, Day At The Beach, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 04:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18933673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverhedges/pseuds/silverhedges
Summary: Vacation time for three Zodiacs and a Hunter.





	when I met you in the summer

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELLIOT!!!!! love you and wish you to have the best day!!!!!

Cheadle is the one who schedules summer vacation, of course. Paperwork filed every year, the electronic calendar filled in with “NO WORK, THIS IS VACATION TIME”, tickets bought. She even goes as far as to steal Mizaistom’s paper diary and pen it in herself with curly handwriting. He has no idea when she does it - the truth is that she has far too many opportunities to do so. During their coffee breaks at the cafe down the street with the imported beans, during a meeting when he is too busy arguing with Pariston, during his office hours when they’re working the papers. 

This is the only way Cheadle can get Mizaistom to take a break. She organises it for Kite too, of course, who agrees voluntarily. (Mizaistom would never agree, being too attached to his desk.) Every year, despite no one telling him, Pariston acquires airship tickets and an hotel room for the exact same place that the trio are going. (Which doesn't mean they don't want him there. Pariston just does things on his own.) 

This is how they end up here. The sky an endless blue canvas, silken and bright like the inside of a hot air balloon. The sand is hot when Mizaistom drifts his fingers through it, idly cupping sand and letting it drain away. The sea sparkles. He watches the scenery, his mind drifting away, eyes half-lidded. 

This is a sleepy warmth. Mizaistom has known hot places before, stifling confinement for days and days, aching thirst and light-headed gasping. The Mizaistom of that time would never have dreamed that one day he would end up here. Three people to love. The sky and sun. The choice to do whatever he wants to. 

His muscles are tired, from stress and a punishing gym routine, and heavy from the t-shirt and leggings he wears to cover his skin. Mizaistom does not like to show his bare skin. If he can’t see the scars, and no one else can see the scars, then the scars do not exist. So he leans back against the towel and pillows laid out against the sand. Closes his eyes. 

Sleep does not come easy to him. But he drifts, day-dreams: flat beer, cleaning products, chatter. He wouldn’t mind a drink at the beach bar with the people he loves. Isn’t this wonderful? To dream nice dreams instead of nightmares?

A heavy weight at his side and then an arm flopped over him. Mizaistom turns his head to the side and ends up with a mouthful of long soft hair. 

“You smell of wet dog,” he says to Kite, soft and fond.

Kite’s voice lacks any bite: “You smell of sweat.”

Mizaistom sighs and shifts around until he has an arm around Kite’s shoulders, Kite’s head on his chest. “We’ll have to take a shower once we’re back at the hotel.”

“Sensible man. The only sensible one out of you Zodiacs.”

“Hmm? Isn’t Cheadle sensible?” Mizaistom smiles, a long curve of his mouth. He can’t help it. He has to smile.

“You’ve  _ seen _ her and Pariston together.”

They listen. Waves, faint yelling and screaming, something smacking against a hard surface. Probably at least five beach attendants and lifeguards having their lives ruined. Mizaistom can imagine the scene: Cheadle in her perfect only-to-be-worn swimsuit with ruffles and Pariston in his trunks with the sequins and a summer shirt. 

A memory: once down by the river, Paris with his suit soaked through and artfully messy, Cheadle’s white dress covered in mud. Children, the both of them. He loves them so much. He would do anything for them. Isn’t this wonderful? To love people who love you back? Who will be kind to you? He has the sweetest loves; he’ll do anything for them, never wants to lose them.

Mizaistom runs his fingers through Kite’s long hair and says, “Bet you when we get up, something will be on fire.”

“I don’t make bets I know I’m going to lose.”

Ging would, Mizaistom thinks, but he keeps the thought to himself. He doesn’t want to spoil the moment. He loves Ging but it is the type of love that will destroy him. They all love Ging in that way. Most of all Paris. If the love Mizaistom has for the three of them is summer, then the love he has for Ging is fall. Tears and goodbyes and decay. 

Mizaistom traces his fingertips from Kite’s neck to his back. No need for bad thoughts here. No need for bad thoughts ever. Just laughter and good food and sleeping in the sun with someone he loves in his arms. 

If he could go back, he would tell that little Mizaistom: it is going to be okay. You will find people you love who love you back. You will find people you love who will leave you. It all happens again and again, there are more strangers in the world for you to meet and adore than you will ever have the time to do so. The right people are out there. One day they will be in your arms. 

Love is infinite. It does not run out. 


End file.
